News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1887-03-03
PIKE COUNTY STORIES,
TOLD BY TIE OLD SETTLER.
ne tells How a Big Ugly Panther Once
Kindly Saved Ills Life.

AAAAaAy Safca l4lIcs
Forty-nine years ago this February, ,
SAID the Old Settler, al were higher t.
the borders O. the happy huntin' groun's
TN ever wanter be az in under thu
same circumstances an ez it has beer
sumpen of spell sence thur been bal
story told 'mongst US, specially one e1
could be relied on ez to its fac's. cues:
L IL call up the reecryations O. that OF
time cluz call o. mine, an give We sum-
PIN to chaw on in the way O. intellect'a
provender that'll do ye more good thu
Sunday school book in three volumes
an index. The older 1 git the more
I'm glad th't l never fergit fac's, fer it's
conslatlon to haul 'em out an let 'em
loose when thur SO much lynn goin' on.
halnt no ways hankerin' arter havin
my toes turn up jist yit awhile, but we L
do turn 'em up, boys, I'd like to hev
IL writ on my gravestun sumpin' like
TINS: The oil man were up-an up,
b'gosh, an his AFFIDAVIT want durn
bit better thin his plain word
mot a durn Bit" exclaimed the
Squire. ''Yer right, we'll put it on yeI
grayestun."
who'll put it on my gravestun9
shouted the Old Settler. "You don't
meanter 'siniwate' Squire, th't you'll
hev hand in it, 1 hope9 I'd like to
bet you leetle sumpin', b'gosh, that
I'll be prancin' 'roun' on this mundane
spear, ez lively ez a cricket, years artel
yer OF woman's wilder! l don't 'spect
to be no Methuseler, nor don't wautel
be, but I've got sands o. life, l have,
an hain't never run 'em out ez fast ez
you hev your'n, an mine'll be runnin'
like buckwhit inter mill hopper good
many months o. Sunday arter you hahn t
got durn sandl You won't never see
nothin' writ on my gravestun. Squire,
an wouldn't count on it, if was you,
cause I'd be durn sorry to dissyp'int We.
81 dunno, Major, replied the Squire,
with shake of his head. 81 see th't
the Legislator is gointer pass a law
that'l make US all teetOtal prohibition
lists. I'm two years younger thin you be,
an think l kin stan it, but it'll strike
in on you, sure, an if my system want
prepared fer it no better'n yours is, l
b'lieve I'd ruther take chances with the
small pox, Major, to say nothin' of the
cholery"
esquire" replied the Old Set Ter,
calmly, but tapping his fingers on his
cane, If they make US prohibitloners,
an' my system is broke up so it hain't in
shape TO STAN agin the calamity, you
kin hev one cons'lation, b'gosh, an that
is th't it want broke up by your pullin'
me up to the bar "a astin' me wat I'd
hev"
That's so, Major" said the Squire.
81 never heerd of pullin' We up to the
bar, but if anybody had ever tried it
don't blieve ye'd ha' had yer clothes
tore holdin' back"
Whether he couldn't do the subject
further justice, or whether he was IN
fuenced by the reflection that it was
better to control himself than to con-
quer city, the Old Settler made no re-
ply to the Squire Ee leaned back in
his chair, and presently said:
''Forty-nine year ago the second o.
this month won't never fergit. | he'd
heap O. fun that day, an sing'ler ez it
may seem, iist ez | were on the pint o.
bein' wiped often the face of the earth
by a bar, 1 were rescued by one O. the
ugliest an maddest painters th't ever laid
low fer fodder. ~
THE creek were high that second o.
February, an consid able loose lumber
were runnin'. l took an inch rope an
went up along the creek to snake in
some logs. Tn had ben talk O. a bic
an hungry painter bein' seen in that
part o. the deestric', an l hadn't gone
fur up the creek fore I come so fresh
painter tracks in the snow. l give up
the log ketchin' idee, cause an idee th't
could ketch that painter in a new kind
o. way struck me hard. dug fer hum
an got hunk O. fresh pork, KNOWN
th't painters thort more O. samplin' hog
in them days thin anything else they
could run aoin- went back TO whar
the tracks was, an tied the pork to one
end o. the rope. Then l tied t'other
end roun' tree, an went of bout my
business. / know'd th't if tine painter
got a scent o. that pork he'd find il,
an th't down his gullet it'd go at one
gulp.
81 had an errand to do three miles
t o her side O. Sugar Swamp, an thort
tn by the time | got back I'd more'n
likely hev Mr.. Painter anchored. 1t
begun to git cold early in the forenoon,
an KEEP on gittin' cold so fast th't wen
l started back from my GRAND tn was
icicles ten foot long hangin' from the
caves o OF Job Monks barn, std O.
streams O. water int was runnin' often
it wen | went by it an hour afore, an
noticed that the creek were closin up so
fast | could almost see the ice formin'. |
took short cut cross through the
woods, an in doin' it run agin a rippin
big bar, This bar had come out to see
his shadder that day, an havin' STAYED
out had got so durn mad over its turnin'
off colder'n GrCenlan, in spite O. no
snadders bein' seen, th't he jisr pitched
right in TO take it outen me- 1t were so
warm wen i went up th't got all het
up, an it were so cold Wen l came
ba' th't l cooled off so quick l were
stiff ez poker, an l couldn't handle
my gun. The bar list walluped me
aroun' 'cordin' to how it struck him ez
bein funny. an by the time the exercise
began to thaw me out so ez | mowt ha'
buckled in an had some fun ou.en the
rassel myself, wor so durn high chaw
ed up tn laid down an waited fer the
bar to give me the last chomp. lie
were jist on the pint o. doin it, Wen l
hcerd sumpin' a tearin through the
brush to ards us, an opened one eve to
see W at it mowt be. The bar herd the
same thing. an let up on me to see wat
it were. Itwere the biggist painter l
ever see, an it were comm like q hurry
cane right to'ard us. Stickin' out
o. his mouth, straight ahead of hi -,
were 'at thought must be spike NOR n
four foot long. The bar were skeert, an
kind o turned to make tracks outen
thar, but fore he could axe step the
painter were agin I s. He struck the
bar broadsides with the curious lookin'
spike, an it went plumb through the
bar and struck out on t'Other side of
him more'n a foot. Both the bar an
the painter tumbled over. The bar we've
deader'n stun, an the painter gave one
or two kicks an ilned the bar wher-
ever it is th't bars an painters goes af-
ter they'm dead | kicked and Skin
mished about leetle, an bimeby got
on my feet. Then / see for the first
time hit wat l thought were big spike
were piece o. the rope tint had baite'l
for the painter. Ye see, the painter had
swoilered the bait an l had him foul.
He couldn't get away. Then that sud-
dent an orful cold spell sot in. The
rope were wet from THROWN it in the
lDrro nm IT